


Undercover

by piggybackride (mssileas)



Series: Cryptid OT3 [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cryptid OT3, Frankenhog, Freeform, Gender non-conformity, Hayseed Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Humiliation, Junkenstein's Revenge, Lingerie, M/M, Monster/Hayseed/Junkenstein, Polyamory, Religious Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 01:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssileas/pseuds/piggybackride
Summary: The Monster's impatience left the good Doctor in somewhat of a dilemma. Hayseed, helpful as ever, offers the solution.Now featuring Shanks' fantastic artwork!





	Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo!
> 
> [Shanks](https://armatages.tumblr.com/) fed me with headcanons until I couldn't help but write this, I love the Doctor and his cryptid boyfriends too much <3 Thank you for the edits and the inspiration and the fantastic art *hugs it all to my chest forever*
> 
> Please enjoy!

An exasperated sigh escaped the Doctor’s lips as he rummaged through his drawer, pulling forth yet another pair of leggings, only to find it riddled with holes the moths had left in it. It landed on the pile of other discarded pairs - ripped, torn, stained from experiments, threadbare from overwear, every single one of them. 

Cursing, he stared at the heap of useless clothes, gnawing at his lip in irritation. He had been summoned by none other than the town’s mayor for a consultation. That was a rare enough event, seeing as the villagers usually mistrusted him and his approaches they didn’t understand and secretly whispered to be witchcraft and other horrendous things. It certainly wouldn’t help his reputation if he showed up in torn clothes, but he couldn’t find a pair of wearable leggings for the life of him, and that certainly put him in a dilemma. 

Behind him, the main culprit grunted in question at the Doctor’s growing frustration, and Junkenstein squinted at the Monster. “What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’? I don’t have a single pair of pants to wear, because someone, and that someone is _you_ , keeps tearing them apart!” He went through the pile again, with the same results as before; nothing appropriate to wear during a visit at the mayor’s. If Hog took that scolding seriously, he didn’t show it. Instead he just sleepily scratched at his belly, sitting on the floor below the windowsill, where Hayseed was perched up again and would gently stroke his dark hair. The Monster tilted his head as he watched the Doctor’s feeble attempts to find something suitable. Wasn’t his fault the flimsy fabric couldn’t withstand a bit of impatience. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?” the man sighed to no one in particular, and finally the scarecrow stretched, climbed over the Monster’s bulk and helpfully opened another drawer. From underneath the burlap the Doctor could hear an expectant noise, but he just frowned. Well, technically he maybe could… but no! That was even more inappropriate than anything else, and too great a risk. Even here in just the company of his creatures the thought made him blush and his guts squirm. 

“No, no, that’s not an option, I - !”

Hayseed wasn’t even listening. Carefully, he plucked the garments from the drawer, offering them to the Doctor, who was visibly torn between not even wanting to consider it, and knowing that he really didn’t have much of a choice if he wanted to make it to his appointment on time. 

With a final sigh, Junkenstein grabbed for them at last, shaking his head as he did so. “Unbelievable. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I hope you both know that if anyone sees this, I’m done! That’ll make them drag me to the pyre for good this time, and you’ll both be responsible for it, because _you_ ,” He pointed at the Monster. “You rip them and _you_ are seriously behind on fixing them,” he hissed in Hayseed’s direction now. 

Neither of his creatures seemed to be particularly inclined to really feel guilty though, instead Hayseed hopped right up on his sunny spot again, his whole leg dangling lazily over the Monster’s shoulder. 

They let the Doctor ramble as he discarded the loosely tied morning robe and plopped down on the edge of his bed. His pale face was bright red as he slipped on a pair of teasingly small silk panties, adjusting himself in them while decidedly not looking at Hog and Hayseed watching him, before he reached for the matching stockings. One for his whole leg, and one that was altered so it would fit over the stump of the other, both ending in lacy decor clinging tight to his slim thighs. The garterbelt followed next, accompanied by the muffled mumbling of “I can’t believe I’m doing this… this is insane… they’ll see, this is bad…”

His hands trembled visibly, which made it a bit more difficult to attach the garter straps to the stocking than it usually was. The prosthetic leg was put on last, and Junkenstein released a shaky breath once he was done. “Insane, completely insane… irresponsible… so much trouble…,” they heard him mutter, when he reached for his lab coat, and some of his confidence seemed to return to the man when he buttoned it up carefully. 

Usually, the Doctor liked how it made him feel, wearing his silky lingerie under the uptight coat that turned it into a secret just for him to know. Well, him and his companions, but they didn’t care about all the ways in which that just wasn’t right. Men did not wear silks, they did not wear panties and stockings and they were not supposed to like how the garter straps pressed into his thighs when he bent over, or how the smooth texture against his skin sent shivers down his spine. But the Doctor’s monsters did not know that, so he was free to do as he pleased around them. Out there though, being found out would mean they’d finally reject him for good. There was no coming back from going against their ancient, boring, witless binary standards, and Junkenstein knew that. It made him feel anxious even now. 

He brushed down the coat that ended right above his knees. Enough to hide the garters and make it seem like he wore a decent pair of leggings underneath, but a single gust of wind could make the disguise blow up in his face within a matter of seconds. 

“So, what do you think?” Junkenstein asked them, a worried frown on his face. Hayseed giggled softly and gave him a thumbs-up, while Hog rumbled contently - and then reached out, pushing one of those giant hands under the coat to brush his fingers against naked, pale skin, huffing excitedly when he grabbed the soft swell of the Doctor’s arse. Junkenstein blushed fiercely, which made the Hayseed’s grin so wide the tear at his sutured lips almost hurt. 

Impatiently, the Doctor swatted the hand away. “No, this is not for you to play with now!” he protested, pointing a stern finger at Hog’s unhappily frowning face. “You brought this on yourself. I have an appointment now, I will not be gone for long. Be good, both of you. I want the castle still standing when I come back.”

Flustered and huffing, the Doctor broke away from them. He grabbed the leather bag filled with the most commonly needed ointments, creams, medicines and instruments, and stomped off. The quicker he got this over with, the better. 

-

The walk down to the village and through the narrow roads was pure torture - every single person the Doctor encountered seemed to stare at him more intently than usual, as if they _knew_. He had to bite his tongue while reminding himself that it was just his growing anxiety playing tricks on him. 

The smile on the Doctor’s lips when he greeted them with a firm nod must have looked strained. He could feel tension in his whole body whenever a soft breeze fluttered around naked skin beneath the coat, leaving him to feel helplessly exposed to their gaze. He had to repress the urge to pull it down and check that it was still in place repeatedly, as that would have only drawn more attention to him than necessary. By the time he reached the mayor’s house - which was easy to identify as it was easily the most luxurious in the whole town, two stories of fine brick masonry, strengthened by wooden balks and big glass windows - cold sweat trickled down his neck. 

The anxiousness that had settled in his stomach faded only slowly as the man led him inside and thanked him profusely for answering to his summoning so quickly. He gave no hint that he had detected something particularly unusual about the Doctor, which just meant the situation was rather dire. Normally no one ever thanked him for showing up. He led Junkenstein into a room so hot the Doctor was almost glad now for the cooling effect the revealing garments offered him, and it reeked of sickness and sweat. 

Propped up on feather pillows laid the mayor’s own daughter, a young girl of maybe ten years, pale and feverish and mumbling incoherently without taking notice of anyone in the room. The second Junkenstein started to tend to her, he all but forgot about his own conundrum. Her skin felt clammy and cold despite the fire burning, and he heard a rasp in her strained breaths. He checked her heart rate and blood pressure, asked her father questions about the development of her sickness - most of which the man couldn’t answer, so he called in the nanny, who gave him a detailed report. 

“I pray for the girl every night, Doctor, but she won’t get better. Please help her, please don’t let her…” The woman tearfully broke off, while her father’s face remained a waxen mask, watching the Doctor’s every move warily. Junkenstein barely repressed the urge to scoff. Herbal tea, sweating and prayers would work on any normal fever, but not with an infection this serious. 

“Of course I will. I’ll leave you some medicine, it should help her fight the infection. Give it to her three times a day, see that she eats, too. Broth, stew, whatever she can keep down. And for crying out loud, let some fresh air in once in a while. No draft, just open all the windows you can for about ten minutes. I’ll give her a shot, too, it will boost her immune system. Make sure she’s clean, bathe or at least wash her and change the sheets every day. And _wash your hands before and after you do that_.” He really couldn’t stress this enough, the girl would not be able to fight off any additional diseases people spread without even realizing it. 

The quick jab of pain from the syringe brought the girl to them long enough for her to give the Doctor a dazed look from hollow, sunken in eyes. “Will I be with God soon, like mommy…?” she whispered. Whether that thought frightened her or not, Junkenstein could not say. 

This time, his smile was genuine when he wiped down the puncture mark with an antiseptic. “No, sweetheart. He won’t take you anytime soon, not on my watch.”

She weakly returned his smile before sinking even deeper in her pillows, her eyes fluttering shut in exhaustion. 

“I will come again to check up on her in two days. She should feel a bit better by then.” The nanny just broke into tears again, a bit more hopeful this time, and the mayor shook his hand so hard it hurt. 

By the time Junkenstein left the house again, his anxiety had all but died down, remaining only a faint whisper at the back of his mind. He wished the mayor would have let him come sooner, but even like this he was confident he would spare this girl from an untimely death due to a lung infection. He felt his confidence return with every step, even stopping once to have a look at a small boy clinging to his mother’s skirts behind a market stand. He assured her his rash was harmless and probably just caused by some weeds: not poisonous enough to endanger a grown adult, but sometimes causing skin reactions in children. She made him take a meat pie as thanks, and the Doctor wondered whether Hog would like it, even if the meat within was cooked and seasoned. 

As soon as he left the village behind, the rush of confident euphoria made him almost enjoy the soft flutter of the coat’s hem around his bare skin beneath. No one had seen or suspected a thing, and the relief washed over him like warm rain. The walk up the sloped road towards the castle was usually tedious and exhausting for his bad leg, but this time the Doctor was acutely aware of the way the garterbelt hugged his waist, how the straps moved with each step, silk and lace clinging to his skin, caressing it softly. 

It felt oddly liberating and thrilling, and he felt hot all over from simmering arousal when he entered the castle through a servant’s door. He left the pie in the kitchens, and hurried upstairs to his bedroom, where he found his monsters deeply engrossed in… well, if he had to put a word to it, he’d call it playing dress-up. 

Within the depths of this old building Hayseed must have found the former king’s cape and had fastened the rotting piece of clothing around Hog’s too wide shoulders. The mantle was a faded red with matted ermine lining. The Scarecrow himself had what Junkenstein assumed to be curtain cloth draped around himself, over the plaid shirt and overall alike, and pinned it together so it would look like a gown. It swirled around his lanky form when he spun on his peg leg, coming to an abrupt halt as soon as he noticed the Doctor’s presence. 

Hayseed giggled when he fell back into the Monster’s big, strong arms. Junkenstein just blinked at them in astonishment. Judging from the sewing kit on the floor and the mound of still unrepaired leggings next to it, he assumed they had gotten distracted from their task, and then he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What are you two doing?”, he chuckled. 

The Monster snorted. “Hog king!” he announced, proudly. “Hayseed queen.”

Junkenstein couldn’t help himself. He giggled all the way as he walked up to them, letting himself be pulled into the embrace as well, pressing himself next to Hayseed into Hog’s chest and belly, before pressing a kiss to the Monster’s chest - because that was all he could reach. “Yes, you’d make a fantastic royal couple,” he laughed. Next to him, Hayseed vibrated with excitement.

Junkenstein’s fingers were unsteady from all the pent up tension inside of him as he fumbled on the buttons on his white coat, until Hayseed helped him shrug it off, leaving his skinny body bare but for the silky lingerie. The Doctor shivered when a broad, strong hand stroked down his back, and he leaned his weight into the Monster. “You still want to play, Hoggie?” he asked, his voice heavy with arousal. It made the already too small panties dig into his growing flesh, but he never minded a bit of pain. 

By now he was used to the ease with which the Monster picked him up, dropping him onto the mattress without any grace whatsoever. Junkenstein didn’t have time to complain though - the beast sunk to his knees, and without further warning the Doctor found his legs resting on ermine-covered shoulders, and a wet snout pushed between his legs, sniffing and growling, and Junkenstein gratefully let his head fall back. Hayseed leaned against the Monster’s broad back, watching the scene unfold before him with obvious curiosity. 

Let them be king and queen, the Doctor thought - as long as he was the God they worshipped.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I hope you liked the Doctor in his stealth lingerie, because this is probably gonna have a repeat performance for yet another one of my lovely frens :*
> 
> SHANKS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ILLUSTRATIONS, DON'T YOU GUYS LOVE THEM??!
> 
> Leave me a comment if you liked it or come hang out at my [tumblr](https://piggyofoz.tumblr.com/)! (NSFW version [here](https://piggyofoz-nsfw.tumblr.com/).)


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